Saturday, June 26, 2010


i'm alone,
at the end of the line,
at the final changing point,
i seem to have exhausted all the faith, anyone has ever had in me,
every where i turn i see more and more disgruntlement, and rising aggression,
friends and mates peel away, those who once held the line, pretty much now sway,
flutter and rip away, an old battle standard, a nicked sword, and a hammered shield,
the war seems to be over, won or lost, it does not matter, it being over is ... unexpected? unsure are they of what to do next, they scatter about, no one hears the call, the bugler was slain, now as any self respecting troop they ask, after the frenzy and blood lust is gone, they wonder, and judge, condemn and reel in shock, horror and disgust, what now lay before them, they cannot see,
i find new strength,
i see a new path,
none would follow me this time,
and though i may ask it, i do not expect it,
all they need right now is to walk away, to speak of home, to drink and sing, it was not their fight to start, and oddly enough non of them was there at the end, i suppose it is fitting, just and right, when the enemy we all had to fight, was, in fact,

ps. if it's any conciliation to any of you, you have served your purpose, and for that i am grateful.

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